


The Thrill of the Chase

by jillyfae



Category: Dragon Age II
Genre: Anal Sex, Archery, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Flirting, Friendship, Masturbation, Oral Sex, Resolved Sexual Tension, Seduction, Semi-Public Sex, Vaginal Sex, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-19
Updated: 2012-12-19
Packaged: 2017-11-21 13:51:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 16,421
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/598463
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jillyfae/pseuds/jillyfae
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Isabela and Sebastian aren't even quite friends, but the former pirate and the former Brother may have more in common than either expected.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Originally inspired by prompts from [fragilespark](http://fragilespark.tumblr.com) and [linaleah](http://linaleahpersonal.tumblr.com). And, as with much of my Sebastian fic, I am assuming a rivalry relationship, and that he has already voluntarily left the Chantry.

Isabela didn't know why Sebastian was playing with himself behind a tree when he was supposed to be getting whatever sleep he could manage in his tent. She also couldn't very well ask, because then he'd stop.

_Probably blush and stutter at me too, which might be adorable, but he'd definitely pull his trousers up at the same time, and that would be_  such  _a shame._

Isabela never thought anyone should stop, but more than just not stopping, she was now considering putting Sebastian at the top of her  _'worth fantasizing about when it's just me, myself, and my hand'_  list.

He still had his armour on, his belt on the ground beside him, his gloves sticking out of a pouch. She couldn't really say why that tightened things so nicely between her legs, but the hint of care and self-control required to carefully put his things aside, combined with the desperate need for relief that meant he hadn't even pushed his trousers far enough down she could see his knees,  _just a hint of muscled thigh_ , was simply delectable.

Besides, he had such splendid hands.

She could get herself off on just the memory of those hands, strong fingers, one splayed against the shadowed grass beneath him, the other sliding up the length of his cock before tugging at the skin past his tip.

_Would he like the pull of teeth, if it was a mouth there instead of a hand?_

That hand slid back down to the base of his cock, the hand itself blocking her view, but he was presumably doing something to his balls. Something good, his eyes closed as his head pushed back against the tree, the bark just a shade darker than his hair, a hint of moonlight silvering his cheeks.

It just wasn't fair, that one man could be that pretty, and completely uninterested in letting her play with him.

She tilted her head as his cock slowly thickened beside his arm, just the hint of the crown starting to show, his hand still occupied in the shadow created by breeches and legs.  _Perhaps not completely uninterested?_

It was such a nice cock, too. Thick, and mostly straight, and more than long enough to hit all the right spots. If the few passing comments he'd made about his wastrel youth were anything to go by, he even knew what to do with it.

It would be a shame not to put all that  _experience_  to use again, now wouldn't it? He wasn't really a Brother anymore, after all, all those pesky vows abandoned when he'd walked away from the Chantry to hunt his family's killers down?

A memory of his stance before he took a particularly tricky shot, feet spread and hips squared and elbow up, eyes narrowed in concentration, sent another shot of heat shimmering along the ache in her clit, and Isabela licked her lips.

She had to bite her lip and swallow a groan a minute later, when he lifted his other hand from the ground and wrapped it around his very hard cock. His hips jerked, the cool damp dew from the ground a shock against hot skin, and then he stroked, up and down, and she couldn't take it anymore.

Isabela shifted her body slowly, carefully, silently,  _mustn't give myself away,_ until her shoulders were braced against her own tree, one foot propped up on a handy root, one hand sliding up the inside of her thigh.

He was playing with himself in earnest now, two fingers inside his foreskin, tugging and stroking, circling his crown. She could see the tension across the back of his hands, both busy teasing, arousing, the friction of fingers and skin in so many right places.

Her own hand was circling her clit in time to his motions, and she couldn't resist imagining his hands, callused differently than her own, strong in ways hers weren't. She could pull a rope or throw a knife, slide a point between the slimmest gap in armour, but archery did different things to a man, archery was all about patience and timing and tension and just the right  _pull..._

Her free hand covered her mouth, smothering the sigh as she shuddered, body tight and eyes closed, a sharp shock of satisfaction as she came.

She opened her eyes to see him fucking his hands, skin now fully retracted so his thumb could rub against the crown, glistening in the moonlight, hips rocking up off the ground.  _Maker, he just keeps going, doesn't he?_

She thrust two fingers deep in her cunt, bending awkwardly to get the angle right, timing each stroke to match his hips. In and out and in again, fingers curved to hit just the perfect spot, staring at his cock and his hands, gasping softly at the ache in her stomach, the tremble in her back and thighs from holding herself in position.

He grunted, leaning forward just as he came, spilling his seed, thick white streaks shockingly vibrant against the dark ground. He held himself still for a moment, the slight rise of his shoulders the only hint of his heavy breathing.

She wanted to be there, next to him, she wanted to lick his hands and his cock clean, feel him twitch beneath her mouth, over-sensitive to her touch after his splendid performance. Instead she just watched, throat tight as she fucked herself silently with her hand, her body hot and tingling and aching. She watched as he wiped his hands clean on a different patch of grass, as he eased his now softening cock back into his clothes and tied his breeches back up, as he settled his belt back over his hips, pulled out his fingerless gloves and pulled them back on his hands.

She watched as he pulled down on his tassets of mail, assuring they were hanging straight, shifted his shoulders under the straps of armour, and turned and walked away. And then she closed her eyes in the darkness, imagining his cock in place of her fingers, his thighs bracing her body instead of the tree, his voice whispering through the night time breezes, until a deep throb of need tightened her body around her hand, and she came again, moaning softly to herself.

Now it was her turn to pant until she could convince her body to move again. Her turn to wipe her hand on a damp patch of grass, her turn to adjust her clothes and prepare to return to camp.

And start plotting ways to get herself a repeat performance. Hopefully on purpose, even.


	2. Chapter 2

Isabela considered just breaking into Sebastian's quarters, wrapping herself in a bow (and nothing else) and waiting on his bed for him to get home again.

But her prey might very well turn skittish.

Or be a touch outraged at the intrusion.

Which would not advance her cause.

She should be  _subtle_.

Subtle was boring.

_Sort-of subtle?_

She started by standing too close.

All the time.

 _Accidentally_  brushing an arm when against him when she walked by, or a leg when she sat next to him.

Aiming a  _few_  more innuendo laden comments in his direction.

Well.

A lot more.

She realized he was the perfect height to look down her cleavage when they were waiting outside the Estate for Hawke one morning, and took shameless advantage of that, leaning against every handy wall or column she could find, encouraging wandering eyes.

Which also did a fine job of highlighting the line of her thighs and hips.

His eyes failed to noticeably wander appropriately, so she started a lot more leaning forward and bending over when he was around.

Which got her propositioned by a couple of Templars, one time when they were following Hawke around at the Gallows, but not much else.

Hawke took her aside one bright morning, to yell at her for harassing the poor man.

Isabela just snorted.  _He wasn't getting all hot and bothered, now, was he, so where was the harassment?_

She blinked, ignored Hawke's attempt to argue with her, let phrases like 'his choice' and 'didn't he have vows?', and 'have you ever heard of self-restraint?' wash over her.

He wasn't at all bothered, was he?

He didn't blush.

He didn't fidget.

He didn't avoid her in the slightest.

For all he could be a righteous little prick sometimes,  _well, a righteous big prick, that was rather the point_ , he wasn't  _stupid_. He had to have noticed what she was doing. He noticed when Hawke's hair changed, or Varric got new bolts for Bianca, or Anders lost enough feathers his pauldrons looked slightly molty.

And his reaction was, what, to smile that slight amused smile of his, the one that showed off his ridiculous eyes, and offer to get her another ale?

That was rather the only thing he'd said to her at Wicked Grace the night before, after all.

_Damnit._

He was  _letting_  her stalk him.

Probably stuffing every glance, every touch, every dirty little word in the back of his brain and wanking off to them at night.

Not that there was anything wrong with that, she rather appreciated the almost-compliment of being someone's wank-fantasy, but it rather got in the way of upgrading him from  _her_  wank-fantasy to a proper lay.

Perhaps she should reconsider breaking into his rooms?

"Isabela!" Hawke snapped. "Have you been listening to me?"

"Not a word, precious," Isabela patted Hawke gently on the cheek. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a Prince to bother."

She could practically  _hear_ Hawke's eye's roll behind her as she sauntered away.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (beware the archery porn. or enjoy, I hope. tbh, of all the things I've ever written, this scene is one of my absolute favorites.)

Isabela found Sebastian at the shooting range behind the Keep.

She leaned slowly back against the fence, feet crossed at the ankles, sun warm on her shoulders and arms, and admired the view. She liked shoulders. And chests. And thighs. Which she could even sort of see today, as he was in practice leathers rather than his usual armour.

He finished his set, arrows grouped nicely around the bull's eye,  _always a fine shot, Sebastian,_  and slowly lowered his bow.

"Can I help you, Isabela?" He tilted his head, just a little, but not enough that she could get a decent look at his expression. His voice was normal, warm and polite, and completely un-enlightening regarding whatever he was thinking.

"I know lots of ways you could  _help,_ Sebastian." Isabela pushed herself slowly away from the post she'd used as a back rest, enjoying the sway of her own hips as she approached. "If you were interested in that sort of thing."

He just shook his head a little, and started down the range to retrieve his arrows.

She followed a step behind, smiling to herself at finally getting a decent look at his arse, no mail hanging down to hide it. Very well built. Much better than most noble  _or_ Chantry types, who tended toward soft around the edges in her experience.

She could see the shift across his back as he pulled his arrows free, and couldn't resist a bit of a smirk when he turned around and she was forced to lift her gaze.

"Do you trust me?"

Isabela raised an eyebrow, feeling her smirk deepen a little. "I'll tell you my safe word if you'll tell me yours, sweet thing."

His lips parted with a sudden breath of air as he sighed, though there was the hint of a curve to them, a flash of humour in his eyes. "That's not what I meant. I may not be Brother Vael any longer, but neither am I...  _casual_ with my  _help_."  He reached out, the feather from one of his arrows trailing gently down her cheek.

She closed her eyes, enjoying the soft caress, and felt him lean in closer, his breath a whisper against her ear. "Why the sudden pursuit? A moon ago, I'm not even sure you would've called me your friend."

"I probably wouldn't." Isabela agreed softly, eyes opened to see those eyes, close enough she could almost feel his lashes brush against her cheek. "But you've... grown on me, as of late."

Another amused breath brushed across her skin before he leaned back to a more  _comfortable_ distance. "Now I'm a fungus? Thanks ever so much, Isabela."

She breathed a short laugh of her own at that, shifting her weight to the side. "You're better than that, no worries."

"Prove it." His eyes narrowed, his feet echoing her shift until they started slowly turning, the target now to their sides rather than behind his back. "Prove I'm not just another mark for your tally."

"What do you have in mind?"

"Perhaps a little test?" His smile was different this time. Slow. Possibly dangerous. Definitely hotter than she was expecting. He stopped moving, and she realized she was now standing directly in front of the target.

"Of what?"

He stepped forward, easing her away from him until her back hit the target. "Our... compatibility." One finger briefly pressed against the center of her lips.  _shh._  "Unless you're scared?"

She rolled her eyes and swatted his arm down. "I can handle anything you've got."

He flashed one quick grin and started backing up, his eyes never shifting, fixed on her face. "Don't move. You wouldn't want me to miss, now would you?"

Her eyes widened in shock. But she couldn't deny the shiver of anticipation down her spine, either, so she rather surprised herself by doing as he asked, and staying right where he'd put her.

He didn't stop at the 15 foot line. He moved all the way back to 30. To be honest, she'd never seen him practice from the 15 foot line. She'd never seen him practice on a  _person_ though, either. Her shoulders were tight with nerves, but  _Maker,_ the rest of her felt like her blood was liquid fire, and the heat was all pooling between her legs.

And then he was lifting his bow and arrow and it was  _pointed right at her,_ and yes, it was only a blunt practice arrow but it was  _pointed right at her_ and this was a dreadful idea and she should not be standing here.

"Raise your arms, please," Sebastian called out, not a shift of his hips or his hands, just standing there.  _His form is bloody perfect,_  she was annoyed to feel herself think as she started lifting her arms up.  _What am I doing?_

"A little more," he asked again. "Hold onto the top of the bale, if you please."

So she did, arms stretched above her head, hands wrapped around the frame for the target until the hay behind it tickled her finger tips.

If they weren't both in the middle of an obvious mental break down, she'd think he'd picked that pose on purpose, for the lift of her breasts and the curve it put in her back.

There was something wrong with her, that having a blue-eyed Starkhaven sort-of noble pose her and shoot at her was remarkably arousing and she was somehow going to have to spin this story so it sounded like it was her idea.

If she lived long enough to tell the story, of course.

And then she saw the shift in his arms as he  _pulled,_  and she couldn't breathe, and she closed her eyes, and strongly considered praying for the second time in her life.

_Not that it did any good the first time._

She felt the force of the arrow right next to her left arm, a hard thud that made her hips twitch,  _fuck yes,_ relief and adrenalin and lust a potent cocktail that felt almost as good as actual fucking. The arrow was close enough she could feel the vibrations against her skin, and she licked her lips as she opened her eyes, watching Sebastian watch her, his eyes never leaving her body as he reached for his next arrow.

That one pierced the target right next to her side, the quiver of the shaft almost brushing against her breast, and she heard herself hum.

It was almost a moan.

Just a little.

_Won't happen again. I am not getting off on Choir Boy's archery._

The third hit next to her outer thigh, just above the hem of her tunic. The jerk of her hips was more pronounced that time, and she gasped as her muscles started to tremble.

_Yes I am._

The fourth, fifth and sixth echoed the first three, down her right side this time, and by the time he was done she was panting, her hips bucking away from the target with each impact.

Her breasts felt full and hot, her thighs were trying to inch a bit further apart, pushing against the arrow shafts on either side of them. She could  _feel_ Sebastian's eyes on her as he lifted another arrow.

Her whole body vibrated with the impact, next to her left leg, along the inner curve this time, just above her knee.

His last arrow was even higher, just under the hem of her tunic, thrumming against the skin of her right thigh.

She didn't even try to hide her reaction this time, head pressed back against the target as she groaned, fingers wrapped so tightly around the frame above her head they ached. Her eyes were half closed, but still she was peering between her lashes towards Sebastian, watching as he slowly unstrung his bow and set it aside, admiring the shift of his legs as he strode back down range.

He stepped in close, his hand on the arrow high up against her thigh, and she shivered from the heat of his body, warming the air between them. He leaned in even closer, his voice soft against her ear. "I am honoured by your trust, milady."

He yanked the arrow out right as his breath faded away, and she shuddered as the tension finally cracked, a moan easing out of her throat as her body relaxed against the target.

_No one calls me milady._

She'd been known to threaten people with daggers, for attempting it.

And yet.

She sighed, instead, enjoying his breath, his chest almost close enough to brush against her breasts, and the hum traveling through them both as he pulled the rest of the arrows free.

The back of his hand hovered just beyond her cheek when he was done, and she could almost feel the path he wanted to take, a slow stroke down her neck and breast. Instead, he reached up and took her hand, stiff from gripping the frame.

"Your move." He bowed his head, his lips brushing a soft kiss against her knuckles, a flash of blue eyes smiling at her, and then he let her go; he turned and walked away.

She just stood there, for awhile, after he had gone, blinking in the sunlight.

_Who is chasing who, again?_


	4. Chapter 4

Isabela leaned back in the pew, trying not to squirm against the hard wooden back.

She wasn't completely sure why she was here, but figured if she was trying to decide what she wanted her next move to be, it made a certain amount of sense to plop herself down in Sebastian's comfort zone, rather than her own.

Plus the Sister leading the Chant today had a very nice voice, sweet and high without being sharp or cloying. Was a pleasant background for thinking.

Smelled nice, too. She rather liked the incense.

Sebastian frequently smelled a bit like said incense. It was part of his charm.

_Shit. When did I decide he was charming?_

Sebastian didn't do casual.

She pretty much only did casual.

That was usually a bad combination.

But she was quite sure he wasn't in love with her.

Or likely to be so.

So what did he want?

_Trust._

_Friendship._

_Respect?_

That wasn't unreasonable, actually.

She preferred sleeping with friends, when she had the chance. Bit more comfort. Bit more investment in the other person's pleasure, as well as your own.

Easier to laugh together. Laughter made everything better.

Were they friends, though?

They were both friends with  _Hawke._

He was nice to Kitten, despite his obvious (and not completely unjustified) distaste for the whole blood-magic thing.

Varric couldn't stand him, but Varric never did appreciate sincerity.

She was afraid she rather did. At least occasionally.

He was friends with Fenris. Fenris didn't bother making friends with most people, so that was certainly another point in his favour.

 _What am I doing, it doesn't matter what everyone else thinks of him, it matters what_  I  _think of him._

He was pretty.

He had a nice smile.

He didn't actually preach, unless someone asked him about the Chantry or the Maker or his shiny white breastplate.

He had a sense of humour, quiet jokes about Hortensias and clouds and cleaning the muck off his trousers.

Never actually got annoyed at all the shiny white breastplate jokes.

He never backed down from any of their adventures, no matter how crazy Hawke got.

Despite his initial misgivings when he'd discovered they were harboring apostates, he hadn't actually turned anyone in to the Templars. That was kind-of a big deal, for a former Brother who still spent rather a lot of his time assisting the Grand Cleric. He could get himself arrested by the Knight-Commander quite easily, if anyone ever found out. That... wasn't something she'd really ever considered before.

He was  _really_ pretty, and her fingers were itching to grab his ass and find out what he'd do next.

_Huh. I do like him. When did that happen?_

That was easier than she'd expected. All she had to do was find an opportunity to pounce, then.

He was even likely to show up here, if she waited long enough.  _Maybe I'll fluster him, this time?_

She grinned, closing her eyes and letting the sound of singing wash over her.

 _Footsteps_.

Soft, and even, and remarkably familiar, even under the sound of people shifting around and getting ready to leave, now that the service was ending.

She permitted herself rolled eyes in the privacy under her eyelids, upon the realization she recognized his stride. Apparently she'd been noticing him for awhile without actually realizing what she was doing.

She lifted her eyelids just a bit, peering through the slit as the boots stopped right beside her.

_Aww, look, he's trying to scowl at me. Gotta find a way to stop those eyes of yours from sparkling, if you want that to be effective, Choir Boy._

"Why are you sleeping in the Chantry?"

"Who's sleeping?" She lifted herself up from the pew, a curve of her back, a stretch of arms and legs. She caught, for the first time, a flicker in his eyes, a glance at breasts and hips and thighs, and grinned again.  _Not so immune to all my teasing as you pretended, huh?_  "I was waiting. Nice and quiet like, even." She turned her body, stepped right up against his chest, much too close for polite society, purring softly against his cheek. "You should be proud of me. I restrained myself  _just_ for you."

She saw his nostrils flare, his hands tighten briefly by his sides. "How very thoughtful of you, Isabela," he drawled out slowly, quite obviously unimpressed with her thoughtfulness, but equally unwilling to admit she was getting to him and back up by even a step.

She whispered, "I have very,  _thorough,_ thoughts, would you like to hear them?" She could feel the swallow down his throat right before her teeth closed gently around the lobe of his ear and tugged.

That broke his composure, a hissed  _Isabela!_ following on the heels of an uneven grunt, his hand wrapped tightly around her arm as he tugged her out of the chapel.

But she'd had this escape planned, and she nudged just right to steer them sideways, and before he'd quite gotten over his shock she shoved them both back into an empty confessional, sliding the door closed behind them.

"This is not the  _place,"_ Sebastian growled, actually angry, jaw tight and eyebrows creased and fingers digging into her shoulders. So she pushed into those fingers, rather than fighting them, rolling up on the balls of her feet and leaning in until she could kiss him.

It was a dreadful first kiss, tense and shocked, his body stiff against hers. And then his lips parted, for just an instant, a hint of heat and sweetness a flutter in her stomach, before he pushed her away again, his voice harsh as he spoke up. "What are you do - "

"Shh." She put a finger on his lips before he could continue. "You needed to know I trusted you? I need to know you won't judge me. I like you Sebastian, but I'm not about to change my ways now."

He stilled, his fingers easing against her shoulders, eyes narrowing as he thought.

She was rather sure it was unfair of her, to put him on the spot like this, when he'd left her alone to think, but since when was she fair? Best he not expect it.

But at least she could wait for him.

So she waited.

Waited for his hands to drop, his eyes to blink, his voice to say something polite and meaningless before he left.

One hand of his slid down her shoulder, warm against the skin of her arm, the other slid up, his thumb beneath her jaw and his palm soft against her cheek, the smallest finger gently brushing the front of her ear.

_He's trying to be nice._

A twist of disgust burned down her throat. If he apologized, some fake platitude before he left, she was going to shove her knee between his legs so hard he limped for a sennight.

Instead his mouth lightly brushed against hers. It was much better than their first attempted kiss, sweet and unexpectedly honest, offering friendship and understanding.

She slipped her tongue between his lips, a quick taste, and she felt his breath catch, one quick thrum through his chest, and he was no longer the slightest bit sweet.

His hand tangled in the back of her hair, pulling her head back, his mouth hot against her neck. She hummed appreciatively, and he nipped gently at her skin. She hooked a leg over his hip, suddenly grateful for the belts she could use to brace her calf. His other hand ran up the back of her thigh, and she groaned as his fingers dug into her ass.

She arched her back, rubbing her breasts against his armour as he turned them around in the tight room, her back bumping against the walls, enjoying the pressure against her body when he pinned her against the wood of the rear wall, his mouth now sucking right at the curve where her neck met her shoulder.

She got an arm free of his grasp, tugging on his hair to lift his head so she could kiss him again, and again, hot gasps against his skin each time they shifted, lips meeting over and over, swallowing each other's groans as his hands kept stroking her hips, her legs, her ass, her breasts squashed tightly between them, her nipples hard against the straight plane of his breastplate.

The edges of which were digging into her ribs, which would likely be uncomfortable later, but at the moment she didn't particularly mind.

She shifted a bit too much against the wall, rising up into his grasp, and almost lost her balance, both feet unexpectedly losing contact with the floor. Sebastian growled softly, sliding them both down until she landed on the bench, hearing his knees hit the floor shortly thereafter.

"Next time," he promised, breath ragged against her ear, his hands between her legs, pushing her thighs apart, "next time I will get you out of this tunic and worship every inch of your skin properly." One hand was pushing against her smalls, the pressure indirect and forceful, and enough to startle a groan out of her, rocking herself her up against his palm. "But I need more room for that."

"Lovely plan," she agreed, her own voice equally uneven. "Same for you."

He kissed her again, brief and hard, and then he was ducking down, his head between her legs. She had to cover her mouth with both hands to muffle the sound she wanted to make, his name turning into a strangled groan as he pulled her smalls aside and  _licked._

She spread her knees so far out to the side they hit both walls, her boots resting on his back, her hips rolling against his mouth, his tongue inside her, stroking, then up again to lick her clit, around and around until she was having trouble breathing, hands tight against her mouth, head pressed against the wall behind her.

He murmured something, so low she couldn't make out the words, but she could feel them vibrating inside her cunt, his breath against her clit, and she jerked, her chest so tight her breath was almost a whine, and then another flick of his tongue, once, twice, more, more,  _Maker, more._

 _S_ he bit her own palm, one last thrust of her hips against his mouth, her heels pushing down into his back as she closed her eyes so tightly the world went white, a shudder of heat tightening her muscles as she came.

It was awkward, getting him out from under her legs,  _good thing we're both flexible,_ and that was definitely a thought she was looking forward to repeating, and then it was lovely, kissing him again, mouths wide and tongues slow and he had such soft, wonderful lips.

Plus she could taste herself in his mouth. That was always good for a nice shiver down the spine.

"How long, Sebastian, since you tasted yourself in a lover's mouth?"

He didn't quite manage  _words,_ but the growly groaning sort of noise he made was remarkably eloquent, and she couldn't help the soft laugh that shook through her body. "Well then, let's do something about that, shall we?"

Isabela found herself thankful for mutually twisty spines again almost immediately, as switching positions seemed to involve much more slamming against walls than getting into the booth in the first place.  
  
 _Though that might just be because I enjoy slamming him around?_

She also enjoyed the way his spine curved after she shoved him down on the bench, feet braced and thighs spread and head pushed back against the wall as soon as she got her hand between his legs, stroking the hard length of him trapped within his clothes.  
  
She enjoyed his cock even more, hot and thick between her fingers when she freed it from beneath the cloth that had been stretched tightly above it.   
  
She enjoyed his face, at the first gentle touch of her fingers, trailing against his skin. There was almost more shadow than light against his skin, but there was enough to see the tension in his neck and the clenching muscles along his jaw as he kept himself quiet.  
  
Silent, perhaps, but not still, each twist of his head or flex of his lips giving away how very much he enjoyed what her hands were doing, stroking down to cup his balls, back up again to tug at his foreskin, her thumbs firm against the pulse she could feel beneath his skin, her fingers teasing softly along his length.  
  
She enjoyed the taste of him, salt and skin and the slightly bitter tang of pre-cum against her tongue, when she replaced her hands with her mouth.   
  
At the first touch of her lips, his hips shifted up, and she felt a hot flash of pride along her nerves as a soft groan broke through his self-control. She missed being able to see the flush along his cheeks, the flicker of his eyes, now that her face was aimed down into his lap, but his body was remarkably expressive in compensation.

His pleasure was clear in the way his knees shifted just a bit further apart, the tension in the muscles beneath her hands, her fingers spread along his thighs, the rocking of his hips up into her mouth, the stroking of his hands along her scalp and through her hair.  
  
Those hands tightened, thumbs pressing against her temples, fingers cradling the back, tugging slightly at her hair.  _Pushy bastard._  Isabela would've grinned, if her lips weren't stretched around him. But when she tried to take him deeper, to slide her face further into his lap, to feel the burn of his cock in her throat, his grip tightened even more, the pull on her hair sharp and shocking as he held her head in place.  
  
She could barely tilt her head and roll her eyes enough to aim a glare at his face, but all he did was widen his eyes and purse his lips at her.  
  
 _Shh._  
  
She considered the judicious use of teeth, to express her annoyance.  
  
"Bless me oh Andraste, listen to my sins, guide me to walk beside You, in the Maker's Light."  
  
She froze instead, at the sound of an unknown woman's voice drifting through the screen between them and the other half of the booth.  
  
"In Andraste's name, I listen. Tell me your sins, so you may be forgiven." Isabela almost coughed in surprise when Sebastian spoke up, his voice, perhaps, a little tight, but completely even.  _And Kirkwaller? What did he do with that lovely accent of his?_  
  
She felt the twitch of his cock against her lips at the shift in her mouth and breath from the aborted cough, but he kept the rest of his body still as the woman began to talk.  
  
Her confession was basic enough. Some envy, some gossip,'borrowing' from her sister,  _blah, blah, blah, how can anyone stand living such a dull life?_    
  
Sebastian kept his own voice smooth, obviously practiced in his responses, only the slightest edge along his vowels to indicate something out of the ordinary.  
  
 _Like the fact he's not technically a Brother anymore, and has no authority to forgive her her banal little sins._  
  
 _Or that he's hard as a rock, and there are two of us over here._  
  
The realization that the prim and proper Choir Boy was possessed of the nerve to  _gag her with his cock_  so he wouldn't get caught fucking in the confessional was enough to make her cunt clench, her clit start aching again. She wanted to climb in his lap and ride him  _hard_. She wanted to find out if he would fuck her completely senseless.   
  
His hands were strong enough she'd have trouble getting free, and she certainly couldn't pull it off without giving them away. It was tempting, though, just to see what he'd do...  
  
She swallowed a moan, feeling his hips lift at the change in pressure. She pushed up with her tongue, hearing his voice stutter, just a little, not enough to give him away to anyone who didn't know him, but more than enough to send heat searing down her spine.  
  
Before she could decide on how to torment him next, the woman left, the slide of the door on the other side loud in the sudden silence.  
  
Isabela felt more than heard the growl in Sebastian's chest that broke the quiet, his hands easing their pressure. They didn't go away though, still pushing down even as his hips came up, until he was filling her mouth and throat, until she could barely breathe, eyes watering and nostrils flaring as he thrust, hard and fierce, until he swelled between her lips, her fingers digging into his thighs, her throat burning as she swallowed.   
  
He shuddered to a stop, breath ragged and heavy above her. She pushed her head up, gasping for air as his hands fell to rest on the bench beside him. She licked her lips, admiring the way his shoulders had collapsed back against the wall, his whole body limp and sated.  
  
But then he opened his eyes, a flash of blue catching the light, and he lifted her up for the kiss she'd promised him, the taste of him still thick in her throat as his tongue dove inside her mouth. He growled softly, his fingers tight around her shoulders as she leaned into the kiss, lips firm and tongues soft, until he suddenly pushed her back, spinning her around so he could pull her into his lap.  
  
Her back curved around his armour, hands wrapped behind his neck, ass settled high on his legs, thighs spread as far as she could get them. He pressed a hand against her mouth, pushing her head against his shoulder. "Can you breathe?"   
  
His accent was back, thickening his whisper enough to make her shiver before she nodded in response. He pushed a finger inside her, slow and steady, her hips tilting to encourage him to go deeper. He twisted his hand until he found the right angle, and she sighed softly against his palm when he eased his finger out again.  
  
He thrust two fingers in, hard and fast, and she needed his hand to muffle the wail that escaped her throat, her hands losing their grip with each other and clawing at his shoulders as her body arched. He was still wearing his half-gloves, making his fingers almost unbearably thick right at her entrance, the leather catching and rubbing against her, rough in contrast to the smooth slide of his fingertips.  
  
Her body was rolling erratically, pushing against his hand as his fingers curved to find her spot, then pulled out, then back in, the burn of the leather no less with a second thrust. Or a third, or a fourth, the rub as he stroked inside making her whole body tighten, not just her cunt.  
  
His hand was muffling her voice as she practically whimpered with each shift of his fingers. Isabela didn't whimper. She purred, she screamed, she swore colourfully... But this was not how she'd expected her afternoon to go, and she couldn't seem to stop the noise she was making, couldn't stop the greedy thrusts of her hips.  
  
 _Fuck, yes, uhhhhnnnnmmm._  
  
She gave up on thought, riding his hand, listening to the purr of his breath above her face, tasting leather against her tongue, knowing the twin of that leather was rubbing her cunt, rubbing her hard, filling her, fucking her mercilessly, the ache and the heat and the tightness building beneath her stomach, around his fingers, shimmering through muscles all the way to clenched fingers and toes and eyelids.  
  
She had just enough presence of mind not to actually scream, though it was good his hand was there to block her moan when she tightened as much as she could, her body taut, pleasure shivering out from his fingers through her body as she came apart.  
  
Her body kept going, shuddering through aftershocks almost as good as the original orgasm, his fingers drawing it out, still stroking, still thrusting, until one last jerk of her hips was all she had left, and her back relaxed completely against him, her arms sliding down to her sides, too heavy for her to hold up any longer, her muscles practically singing their relief.  
  
She hissed out a short breath when he pulled his fingers free,  _gonna be a little sore down there_ , and then her lungs caught when she tried to breathe back in, distracted by watching him suck his fingers clean.  
  
"Sebastian Vael, I don't know whether to thank you, or yell at you for holding out on me for so long."  
  
"Hmm, if you decide on yelling, could you wait until I get myself back in my trousers?" His murmured voice was light against her ear. "I'd rather none of the Sisters got an eyeful when they come to investigate the commotion."  
  
Isabela turned her head to muffle her laugh against his neck. "That seems reasonable."


	5. Chapter 5

"I think," Isabela drawled, lengthening her stride to stretch out the kinks from having had a spectacular amount of fun in a very small space, "I am going to need to indulge in some gloating. Would you prefer I do so in front of you, or behind your back?"

"Um." She glanced carefully over at Sebastian's face when he spoke up, rather delighted to discover that, despite his pleasant acrobatics in private, he was still prone to blushing in public. "What,  _precisely,_ are you planning to gloat about?"

"My dear sweet naive man," Isabela stopped and turned, so she could admire the fine line of his chest and hips and legs as she attempted to make him blush even more. "I just thoroughly deflowered you. What do you think I'm going to gloat about?"

"I don't think it counts as deflowering if your victim is not really a virgin?" He paused, the slightest twitch of his lips giving away his urge to smile despite his darkening cheeks. "Willing accomplice is more accurate, perhaps?" She grinned back in agreement. "Still not a virgin though."

"If I ever go without for over a decade, I'm quite sure I shall  _feel_ like I've just been deflowered again." Isabela snorted, turning around and starting to walk across the Courtyard again. "Besides, don't tell me you've had sex in a Confessional before."

"Alright, I won't tell you."

Isabela stopped mid-stride.

"I'll admit, it wasn't in the Kirkwall Cathedral," his voice was a soft purr behind her, the accent thickening for emphasis. "Or recent." He'd moved close enough she could feel his breath on the back of her neck. "But I'm afraid it might take some work on your part, to find something I've  _never_ done before."

"Oh, precious," Isabela breathed out softly, spinning around again. "You have  _got_ to tell me about your wasted youth in more detail. Pretty, pretty please?"

"But then I won't get to watch you try to corrupt me," he leaned in so close their lips  _almost_ touched. "And I am very much looking forward to your next attempt."

"So am I." She tilted her head so her mouth could continue the teasing just beyond his cheek, not quite touching. "But first, I want to see Varric's face when I tell him your idea of flirting is to shoot at people. I bet he never thought he'd meet someone who could understand Bianca's sex appeal."

"Oh no," Sebastian shook his head, his voice dropping, slow and oh so serious, "a proper flirtation is tailored to the recipient."

"Really?" Isabela felt her eyebrow raise, and tried very hard not to laugh. "You mean you didn't enjoy that at all?"

He shrugged, flashing her one of his quick grins.

"How do you  _tailor_  your flirtations, then?" Isabela couldn't resist grinning back.

"Well, you have to observe your target most carefully." He started walking, a slow deliberate pace as he made his way all the way around her, the weight of his gaze almost tangible.

"Fond of my ass, are you?"

"Exceedingly." Sebastian answered, one hand resting gently on her shoulder as he finished his circle, "You are, in all respects," the hand trailed slowly down her arm until he reached her hand, "the most desirable woman I have ever seen." He lifted her hand, bowing over it until she could feel his breath on her knuckles, and she positively  _ached_  to have his mouth drop that hairs-breadth further down to touch her skin.

"Oooh. Oh, you're good." Even knowing he was just putting on an act per her request, that had rather made her stomach flutter.

He winked as he stood up, fingers still warm against hers. "Well, pretty compliments are highly effective on most young ladies, and pretty manners made their mothers think they have nothing to worry about."

"And for those not so easily swayed by pretty words?"

"Pretty words work on everyone. You just have to find the right ones." He bowed again, though this time he turned her hand over, his lips shockingly hot against the sensitive skin on the inside of her wrist. He stepped in closer when he stood up again, close enough she could feel him speak against her cheek, their hands almost pinned between them, his impossibly blue eyes fixed on her face. "It is difficult to be honest, when surrounded by the eyes of the Court. Might I suggest a more  _private_  location to continue this conversation?"

"And how many ladies followed that invitation?" Isabela could feel her breath catching in her throat. She was rather sure that invitation would've worked on her when she was young and silly.

 _Is working on me even now_ , she realized, feeling them slowly easing backwards along the path to the closest set of stairs down to Lowtown.

"Almost all of them," his voice was low, his head tilting ever closer, and she leaned her head backwards in an invitation of her own. He side-stepped carefully, spinning her gracefully under his arm, and she found herself backed up against his chest, their hands still clasped, resting against her stomach, his arm wrapped around her hip.

His other hand slowly slid her hair back, and then his mouth was on her shoulder, slowly working his way across her skin along the base of her necklaces, and she closed her eyes and purred.

"Some women prefer an exotic seduction," he lifted his head up towards the line of her jaw, his breath brushing across her ear. He'd thickened his accent enough she had trouble understanding the words, but the vowels still went straight to her spine, making her body tremble.

"Is that how you learned to hide the accent, as well?" She was rather proud of the fact that her voice sounded quite matter-of-fact, rather than shivering along with her spine.

Sebastian chuckled softly, spinning her around again until they were face to face, his free hand landing comfortably on her hip. "Strangely, a Kirkwall accent in Starkhaven does not have the same effect, though having the knack of it was the only reason I was permitted to serve at Confession when I was a Brother." He hummed softly, their footsteps tapping against the cobblestones beneath them as he swung her into something bearing a more than passing resemblance to a waltz.

"Hard to be anonymous if everyone knows who you are by the first syllable out of your mouth?" Isabela stepped in closer, feeling his hand slide to the small of her back.

"Precisely."

Their almost waltz had turned into something else entirely, hips much too close, mirroring each turn and tilt of their bodies back and forth across the street, until Isabela turned a little too fast, and slammed Sebastian against a convenient wall, leaning in with the movement until she could kiss him, her tongue deep in his mouth, his lips firm against her own. His hands slid to her ass, and she groaned into his mouth as his fingers gripped tight.

"I have got to get you out of that breastplate."

"And you out of that bodice," he agreed. He ducked his head, teeth pulling gently at the very top of her laces. She leaned back with a pleased sigh, feeling his hands slide up her back to support the curve of her body, her eyes flickering closed as his mouth moved slowly up her chest, not quite touching, his breath warm against her skin. "Unfortunately," he murmured against her neck, "I have a meeting with the Grand Cleric this evening, and that is not nearly enough time to properly appreciate you."

"Oh, you say the sweetest things," she leaned her head further back as his mouth finally descended all the way to her skin, a gentle scrape of teeth along her jaw. "Planning on keeping me up all night, are you?"

"Mm-hmm," he hummed; his lips having reached her mouth, he kissed her, warm and slow.

"I guess I shall have to amuse myself until tomorrow, then." Isabela sighed softly when their lips parted. "I shall tell amazing tales of your exploits, so everyone knows exactly what we're up to, and I get to see you blush every time you walk in the room and Hawke says something  _dreadful._ "

Sebastian's sigh was almost a chuckle as he rested his forehead against hers. "Just be sure you get the details right, then." His fingers tightened against her back as he felt her shiver from the feel of his breath against her face. "We were well past flirtation when you showed up at the archery range. That was foreplay."

"But I never even got pretty words or dances!" Isabela pretended to pout, though she almost wrecked it by grinning at the expression on his face, his eyes quite clearly staring at her mouth, the hint of teeth behind his lips suggesting the urge to bite.

"You, my luscious pirate, seemed more interested in sex and danger rather than pretty words, in pursuing more than being pursued." His voice was slightly raspy, as if he wanted to other things with his mouth besides  _talk,_ and Isabela couldn't quite resist leaning even further back into his arms, watching him swallow when his eyes dropped briefly to her well-displayed cleavage. "The trick to flirting with you, is to make sure you think you started it."

It took her a moment to realize what he meant, and her eyes narrowed as she frowned. And simultaneously clenched her thighs together as her clit throbbed with reawakened arousal. "You sneaky bastard. You knew I was there."

"I did." His voice was positively evil, low and rich and smug, his lips curving into a smile. "I put a show on in the woods, under the moonlight, just for you." He tilted his head, leaning in until his lips almost touched her ear, his voice whisper soft. " _Did you like it?_ "

_Maker yes._

Isabela wanted to snarl at him. She also wanted to moan, and grind herself up against his leg, and feel his mouth on her breasts, and she still hadn't even gotten a decent look at the man with his shirt off. All she managed was a rather strangled groan, before she swallowed and forced her voice to work again. "You are in so much trouble."

The laughter against her ear was enough to make the muscles below her stomach clench again, a warm pleasant ache. And then he kissed her, hard and fast, the press of lips and the squeeze of his hands around her, before he released her, side-stepping away from the wall. He walked backwards, still watching her as he retraced their path back to the Chantry. "Then I look forward to your revenge."


	6. Chapter 6

"Hello there, lover boy."

Sebastian didn't quite manage to hide the slight flinch across his shoulders when Isabela stepped away from the shadows just before he pushed through the Chantry's double doors. He recovered quickly though, a slight shift of his feet so he was facing her, hands spread wide by his sides, a smile softening his mouth.

"Should I be on the look-out for traps, then?"   
  
Isabela shook her head slightly as she approached. "Oh, my revenge won't be that simple. Or that soon." She enjoyed the chance to stand much too close, yet again, close enough she'd be able to feel the heat of his skin, if it weren't for that blasted armour of his. "You shall just have to wait, wondering what it could possibly be, or when it will finally descend upon you." She could see his nostrils flare when she leaned in close to his cheek, his head tilting towards her. "Tonight, however, there is another issue we must address."   
  
"Which is?" He played the game well, his shoulders angled just enough that his hands were barely a dagger's-width away from her sides, nothing touching, but close enough neither of them could think of anything else.   
  
"Your bed or mine?"   
  
"Mine is very narrow." He stepped back, less than half a pace, almost bumping against the doors.   
  
"But closer." Isabela stayed where she was. "How fast can you get inside me, Vael?"   
  
She saw his face tighten, just an instant, considering it,  _timing it._  And then he softened again, that smile back, one eyebrow raised. "But tonight's not aboutspeed. Much rather savour our opportunities when we have them, yes?"   
  
Isabela hummed in agreement, enjoying the way his tongue caressed his words until his lips could shape them, his voice slow and accent thick. "That just makes me want to start sooner, so I have more time to properly test your endurance."   
  
"I thought you enjoyed your comforts," despite his words, Sebastian stepped close again, conceding her position. "The guest quarters behind the Chantry are quite... sparse."   
  
"I'm not interested in comfort tonight," Isabela wrapped her fingers around the leather strap for his quiver, yanking hard enough he almost stumbled, pulling herself tight against his side, her mouth against his ear. "I want to fuck you so thoroughly your room smells of sex for a sennight. I want you to wake up hard, every morning, so hard you have to rub one out, quick and rough, thinking of me all the while."   
  
She saw his throat vibrate with a low growl. His head turned and a hand slid through her hair to the back of her head, bracing her as he kissed her, his mouth hard and forceful. He pulled her head back, a hard yank on her hair, a quick nip at her jaw, then turned them both and started walking.   
  
"This way."   
  
"I know how to get there." Isabela laughed softly, her arm tucked around Sebastian's, her thigh rubbing against his leg. "I was considering breaking in, if you remained impervious to my flirting for much longer."   
  
"Trust me," his voice was a low rumble in the air between them. "I am not remotely impervious to any of your charms."   
  
"Oooh, there you go again," Isabela tightened her fingers around his arm, biting her lip on a soft hum. "Making me all shivery with the pretty words. Can you do that to Hawke sometime, so I can watch?"   
  
"I'm of the opinion Hawke would not appreciate that." They reached his door. He slipped his arm free to dig his key out of his pouch. "Besides, I'm much more interested in appreciating you."   
  
"You know, you have already convinced me to get all naked and sweaty with you." Isabela leaned against the door frame, listening to the lock click. "I don't require more charming."   
  
"Maybe I do, though?" She could see the creases deepen around his eyes as he smiled at her, his palm soft against her cheek an instant before he kissed her, a gentle brush of lips, followed by his whispered breath against her face. "I would be remiss if I didn't properly express my appreciation."   
  
"Open the fucking door, Vael."


	7. Chapter 7

There was a moment of heat and confusion up against the door after he'd pulled her into his rooms, after she'd locked it securely on the now empty hallway, hands and lips and another compliment whispered in brogue against her skin.  _I could definitely get used to that._  Her fingers found the buckle for his quiver, and with one smooth yank freed the leather from the metal, and listened to the solid thud as it landed on the floor behind his heels.  
  
That soft laugh of his, more breath than sound, accompanied their fingers as he guided her hands to every strap and buckle and tie, apparently more than content to let her undress him. Though he did insist on actually putting the armour back on the rack along the wall, rather than letting her throw the pieces across the floor.  
  
"You're slowing me down, you know," she scowled at the greave that had almost fallen off onto her foot.   
  
"But we're not in a hurry." His arms reached around her, pulling her up against the hard warmth of his chest. She leaned her head back, enjoying the rub of his shirt caught between them, the solid strength of his hands as they slid firmly along her hips.  
  
"Hmm. Perhaps not. This is quite nice." She wriggled a little, rubbing herself against the length of the body behind her, close now there was no metal in the way.  
  
His arms tightened around her as he hummed in agreement. His mouth dropped down to her shoulder, and his hands moved up to her chest, and she pushed up from her heels into his touch. He responded admirably, sucking her skin between his teeth, kneading her breasts with strong, rough fingers.  
  
He gentled a moment later, a soft flick of his tongue to soothe her skin, hands easing down her stomach before untying her sash, drawing it slowly off her hips and dropping it to the floor.  
  
She hummed herself at the gentle tug as he started loosening her ties, felt their weight shift as he started moving them sideways to stand in front of his wardrobe.  
  
"Got some leather or silk in there for me?" Isabela leaned back against his shoulder, turning her head toward his ear.   
  
"I must express deep regret that I do not." His voice caught as her teeth pulled. "My linens are... bland at best."  
  
"All the more reason to get you out of them?" Isabela put her hands on his hips, sliding back and under his waistband until she had her palms nicely spread along the curve of his ass. She dug her fingers in and pulled him tight, even as she pushed back with her body, trapping him between her hands and ass. "Oh Maker, yes," she could feel his muscles clench under her hands, his cock harden against her body, "anything that feels that spectacular simply has to be put on display."  
  
His hips tilted up against her, a rough rasp to his breathing as he rubbed against her, pushing hard enough they stumbled forward another step. "Then I think you'll like this." He reached around her to open the door.   
  
"Ohhh, yes, I do like that." There was a mirror. Fancy, full-length, smooth and expensive in a dark wood frame. They looked very good in the mirror, his face slightly flushed behind her shoulders, her breasts lifting as she breathed, his fingers spread over her stomach, skin dusky in comparison to the white fabric.  
  
It was mesmerizing, watching him undress her. Her skin felt warm, her muscles taut, her breath heavy as it passed her mouth.  _He has such good hands._

She watched the slow glide of fabric as he pushed each side of her tunic off her shoulders, fingers chasing cloth, mouth chasing fingers. He pushed some more, pausing to loosen her ties again, until she felt the slither of fabric, and her dress pooled on the floor, encircling her boots.   
  
He groaned softly, hands pushing down her sides over her corset, hot against the skin of her thighs when they descended below her hips. She leaned back against his chest, spreading her legs a little in invitation.  
  
He took it, hands moving back up the inside of her legs. She couldn't decide if it was the feel of his skin that stopped her breath, or the sight of his thumbs, travelling along the seams of black fabric between her legs, as if her smalls were a border preventing him from going too fast.  
  
He pulled her corset tight, tight enough she almost whined, right before the hooks loosened, and her breath escaped with one long hot sigh as he yanked it off her. His hands were on her breasts, and she watched her nipples tighten between his fingers as she pushed up against the pressure.  
  
Apparently watching wasn't enough for Sebastian, though, for all she was getting quite a rise out of it, as he spun her around and latched his mouth on one of her nipples. He switched to the other one, his fingers stroking along her ribs, smoothing up her body to let the weight of her breasts rest against his palms, sliding along hot flesh to tease her nipples as his mouth moved, hot breath and tongue and teeth, back and forth.  
  
"You have the most perfect breasts." His voice was thick, vibrating through her chest, and when he sucked her nipple deep into his mouth she could feel the tug all the way to her cunt.  
  
She swallowed a moan before she managed to tease. "You're welcome to do that to them anytime you'd like."

At that he leaned back enough to flash her those baby blues of his, her nipple between his teeth as he moved, pulling back until she gasped, a hot flash of almost-pain burning pleasantly along her nerves.  
  
"Please do that to them anytime you'd like." She could hear a quiver in her voice. Sebastian heard it too, judging by the pleased growl he made against her skin, his mouth dropping past her stomach as he knelt in front of her.  
  
Isabela's muscles clenched in anticipation at that particular position, but his mouth skimmed right past her hips to her thighs, his hands working at easing her boots free. "Full service seducer, aren't you?"  
  
"I do try."  
  
She lifted her foot, pointing her toes, sighing at the feel of the leather sliding down her shin. And repeated it again when he switched legs, shifting her weight to keep her balance, and then her feet settled down against the floor, his hands gripping her ass, pulling her close as he kissed her stomach.  
  
He leaned back and she moaned at the feel of his breath against her mound, warm even through the cloth still between them, though she was quite sure he was close enough to smell how wet she was. His hands slid lightly down the backs of her legs, her toes flexed against the smooth old wood beneath her feet, and her entire body jerked as his tongue flicked out and licked.  
  
She reached down and grabbed his hair, pulling him back far enough she could stare into his eyes, wide and dark, a soft sigh of disappointment lifting his breath. "I know you're good with your mouth, sweet thing, I want to know what you can do with your cock."

He stood up, one smooth push off his feet, their mouths almost slamming together, lips rough and tongues deep. She shoved back, both hands flat against his chest, forcing their mouths apart with a gasp, just enough space between them so she could yank his shirt up over his head.  
  
 _Shirt off is a lovely view, I was right. Yummy._

He started to lean in to kiss her again, but he shuddered to a stop when she slid a hand between his legs and gently squeezed his balls through his clothes. "There's something you should know about me," Isabela whispered, tugging just enough to guarantee he followed as she stepped backwards, admiring the curve of his neck as his jaw flexed, the quiet whine of pleasure trapped in his throat.

"Mmm?"

She spun  _him_  around, this time, shoving back at the same time, leaning her weight up against his shoulders so they'd fall back on his bed. "I'm done with taking my time." She stroked her hands down his chest, admiring muscles and hair, the thickening auburn trail below his navel to his waistband. "And I like to be on top."  
  
She dug her nails into his skin, tilting her hips and riding his body as he pushed up off the bed with a low grunt, her thighs tightening around him as she slid into just the right spot, feeling the jolt all the way up her spine as she rubbed against his cock.  
  
She felt empty, aching for him inside her, but the angle was perfect, his cock hot even through three layers of fabric, and she couldn't stop rubbing herself on him, leaning forward when he lifted up with his hips, her breath fast and harsh in her chest.  
  
His hands gripped the backs of her thighs,  _mmm, yes, skin_ , fingers tight as he pushed her up along the length of him, his body rising up beneath her, pressure building against her clit, her muscles taut and her skin tingling. She bit her lip and closed her eyes, focused completely on the heat building between her legs.  
  
"Please, Isabela." Sebastian's voice was rough and raspy, enough to make her moan, another jerk of her hips as his hands pulled at her smalls, the top seam digging into her hips. "I want to be inside you."  
  
The echo of her own desire, the raw edge of his accent, the heat of his hands and the curve of his body beneath her... her stomach tightened and she almost came from sheer anticipation, a stutter of breath and voice as she threw back her head. She swung herself off him, just far enough to strip her smalls. He did the same with his breeches, kicking them off his heels as he pulled her into his lap.  
  
She followed his pull, lining their bodies up, fingers spreading herself wide, easing his cock between her lips. She shifted her arms to brace herself against him as she slid onto the head of his cock, a tight sigh slipping out between her lips. She had barely started pushing herself towards his hips, legs spread wide, head bent so she could watch his cock slowly disappear inside her, when he rolled his hips up, his hands on her hips pushing her down at the same time.   
  
"Fuck, yes," she clenched around the sudden thrust, his heat so far inside her, hard and full, her fingernails scratching down his shoulders with the pulse of her orgasm.  
  
He rode out her tightening muscles, fingers spread across her skin, his mouth on her nipple, sucking it deep into his mouth again, only the uneven roll of his hips giving away how close he came to following her over the edge.  
  
She felt surrounded by warmth and muscles, his thighs beneath her ass, his arms wrapped around her, holding her in his lap, one hand stroking her back, the other trailing hot fingers up her neck. She returned the favor, arms around his shoulders, her fingers teasing the nape of his neck, tracing his hairline. His lips moved up, following the top line of her collarbone, and she sighed, slow and deep. They rocked in time, now, pushing together, then apart, rubbing her breasts against his chest, his sides along the inside of her thighs. Her legs wrapped around him, holding him close and tight. His cock was still hard and deep inside her, the delicious friction building more heat low in her stomach, flushing her skin.   
  
"How -" She had to pause to groan as a particularly good roll of her hips rubbed everything, everywhere. "How did you live without this for over ten years?"  
  
"I have no idea." He panted his words against her neck, his breath causing her hair slide off her shoulder and down her back, the extra trail of light sensation making her shiver. He groaned, his nose rubbing along her neck as he tilted his face up, his fingers pushing her head down until his tongue could reach, a quick flick against her lips, an invitation, a plea for more.  
  
 _Yes, more. I like more._    
  
She slid her tongue in his mouth, bending her head down to reach, to taste. Her back curved as she moved, changing the angle of her hips,  _even better_ , each thrust playing her body, a pulse, a tingle, a gasp that he swallowed as he kissed her, lips firm as he pushed up with his jaw.  
  
His hips started moving faster, jerking harder, lifting them both off the bed. His breath sped up, his mouth wide and gasping with each kiss, his fingers tightening around her. She could feel the heat of his cock, the tightness of his stomach against her, the shift of his thighs beneath her as he came.  
  
He held her there, a moment, two, his hips still rocking gently, his breath still hot against her skin. Isabela unwrapped her legs, her feet trailing behind him, started to lift her ass, to push back off his lap, feeling his cock fall out as she moved.  
  
He growled, one last jerk of his hips the only warning before he moved.  _Lunged._  
  
Isabela fell back along the bed, her head dangling off the foot, his hands wrapped around her legs, fingers digging into her thighs, his tongue plunging inside her. She shouted, a wordless gasp, half pleasure, half surprise, back arching and arms slapping at the bed to hold herself in place.  
  
In the confessional, his tongue had been quick and light, tracing her lower lips, her clit, teasing her into coming against his mouth. This, this was completely different, his face pressed between her legs, his tongue firm and strong, chasing the taste of his own seed deep inside her.  
  
He was still growling, softly; the thrum of his voice traveled all the way down her cunt, and she lifted her ass up off the bed, pushing up to feel him even deeper.  
  
She could see herself in the mirror, too, hair trailing all the way to the floor, fingers clenched in the blanket, breasts full and nipples tight. Her eyes dark and wide, her skin flushed, her chest visibly rising with each panting breath she took. The top of his head between her legs, auburn hair mussed, tickling against her thighs. She started to lift her head, to look down her body and see him directly, rather than reflected, but just as she moved his tongue moved up, lapping at her clit, hard and slow.  
  
She cried out as her head fell back, and after that first surge of pleasure she opened her eyes and watched herself in the mirror, watched as the muscles in her stomach tightened, watched as her thighs tensed, then trembled, watched as her hands twisted the fabric beneath them.  
  
She watched his fingers dig into her thighs as he felt her body go over the edge, as he held her still, as he kept going. She could feel the shift of his mouth as he swallowed her slick, then thrust his tongue inside her again.   
  
"Fuck, Sebastian." She bucked her hips again, and again, aftershocks shuddering through her. Only when she stopped moving, nothing left but a tremble low in her stomach, did he lift his head. She watched him lick his lips, watched his eyes shift until he caught her gaze in the mirror. He smiled, slow and sweet and sly, all at once, and then shifted his hands and tugged, sliding her legs down the bed until he'd pulled her head up on the pad as well.   
  
His head dropped, his mouth hot as he kissed her stomach, her hip, his lips firm against her side, her ribs, her neck, marking a trail along her skin as he crawled up her body. The light caress of his fingers stroking her hair back from her face made her blink her eyes closed, savoring the touch. His lips brushed against her temple, then her cheek, before he found his way to her mouth.  
  
She moaned into his mouth, the kiss deep, his tongue thorough as he tasted her mouth, as she tasted his. She rolled into his touch and wrapped her arms around his shoulders, her leg around his hip, skin touching everywhere, chest and stomach and legs and arms, warm and hard and soft and smooth and the itch of chest hair against her breasts.  
  
"Now, we can take our time." She rubbed her nose against his cheek, feeling his skin move as his lips curved into a smile .  
  
"Endurance test, stage two?"  
  
"Something like that." She leaned back along the bed, far enough she could watch her hands on his shoulders, tracing muscles down his arms and chest, using fingertips and nails against his skin. "Or maybe I just finally have a chance to admire, now that you're naked."  
  
"I can appreciate that." Sebastian blinked at her, that smile still warming his face, his hand slowly stroking down her side, from the curve of her breasts all the way to her knees. "You are very admirable, yourself."  
  
"Like me naked, do you?"  
  
He groaned an affirmative, a lovely sound from deep in his throat, and if she wasn't quite so worn out and sated and perhaps a little sore, it would've made her toes curl.  
  
His wandering hand moved back slightly, his next stroke down her ass rather than her thigh, and she felt the tension as her body enjoyed the feel of his fingers, again, despite the ache in her gut.   
  
 _Alright, he still makes my toes curl._


	8. Chapter 8

Not being in a hurry was certainly a pleasant way to spend a night, the slow play of fingers, the occasional warmth of a tongue, the tasting of skin, the press of his entire body against hers when he gathered her close to kiss her again.   
  
He found the spot on the back of her neck that actually literally made her toes curl at the touch of his mouth.   
  
She blew into his ear and felt his whole body jerk, his hands completely forgetting how to hold on to her ass for just a moment.   
  
He tickled along her hips, making her squirm and giggle until he found just the right place and just the right pressure to make her moan instead.   
  
He liked the scrape of teeth against his skin, the scratch of nails when she dug her fingers in and stroked down his back.   
  
She liked his mouth everywhere, though he was particularly fond of her breasts. She was fine with that, enjoying the feel of her nipples tightening between his lips, the shock of almost cold in contrast when he lifted his mouth and blew across wet skin to make her shiver.   
  
She was quite fond of his ass.  _Maker_ , he had a great ass, the perfect fit under the curve of her palms. He liked it when she dug her fingers in, his muscles tightening and voice groaning.   
  
Such a shame he hid it behind mail all the time.   
  
Really, it was a shame he didn't just walk around naked all the time.   
  
She bet the muscles in his back and shoulders did splendid things when he drew his bow. That would be nice to see.   
  
"So tell me something."   
  
"Hmm?" He was on his stomach, hands beneath his head, eyes closed at the feel of her hands massaging his back.   
  
"Don't suppose you ever practice your archery thing without a shirt on?"   
  
His body shook a little beneath her as he laughed. "Not generally, but I suppose, the next time it is especially hot?"   
  
His questioning hum dropped in pitch when her hands reached his butt, fingers digging in as his muscles tightened beneath her, easing again as she stroked a finger between his cheeks, a light touch against his entrance.   
  
He lifted up against her touch, which rather answered her next question before she asked it, but she did it anyways. "Do you like it up the ass, Sebastian?"   
  
"I've yet to find something I don't like, with a warm and willing partner." The smug purr of his accent did things to her, lovely warm tightening quivering muscles sorts of things. "What precisely were you planning on using for 'it'?"   
  
He rolled the r in  _precisely_  . Half swallowed the one in  _were_  in favor of the vowels.   
  
That was just unfair.   
  
"Nothing, at the moment." She leaned in close enough as she spoke to blow her breath across his hole. She smirked at the visible twitch of muscles beneath his skin, his body reacting despite his attempt to hold himself still. "But I do have some lovely toys at my place. For next time."   
  
His body rubbed against the bed at that, tension rolling and releasing from his head down his back and legs all the way to his toes. "Do you have toys for me to use on you, as well, or do I need to go shopping?"   
  
Isabela slithered her way back up his body, whispering her question in his ear, her breasts rubbing against his back. "Ooh, can I go shopping with you?"   
  
"Certainly." He rolled over beneath her as he spoke, his hands pushed her hair up and back, his head lifted up from the mattress. "Have to be sure what I find is to your preferences, after all."   
  
She caught his bottom lip in her teeth, the slightest tug before she let him kiss her.    
  
Or maybe he was letting her kiss him?   
  
Either way, it was a splendid kiss, warm and slow, flushing her body with heat and tension,  _and perhaps we've been playing long enough?_    
  
The low rumble from deep in Sebastian's chest agreed with her, the vibrations against her mouth enough to make her moan even before his hands grabbed her legs and pulled her up his hips. Her stomach bumped against the tip of his cock, and he stopped kissing her long enough to groan. She grinned, and slid her hand down to wrap her fingers around him and squeeze, just a little, so she could hear that groan again.   
  
Instead he laughed, though it was a ragged breathy sound, and pulled her legs again, until she let go and let herself be pulled over his cock to settle on his stomach. His hands slid up to her ass, and his hips rocked, and she could feel his cock sliding along the cleft between her cheeks now, up and down as he moved. "And how do you feel about things up the arse, Isabela?"   
  
She hummed, following the shift of his hands and his hips, her body curving to rub against him. "I think you are a nice big boy and I didn't plan ahead, for once."   
  
That laugh again, though it was half a groan this time, his eyes blinking closed then open, his fingers digging in as his hips bucked a little harder. "I think I can make up for that, if you'd like."   
  
"Oh, I'd definitely like."

 

He sat up to kiss her, and they shared a moan and a groan and hands in hair for long enough she almost forgot why he started moving in the first place.

_Almost._

She gave him a shove, and he flashed teeth and eyes in a quick smile before padding quietly over to his wardrobe, careful not to disturb the mirror when he reached inside.

"Olive oil?" Isabela tried not to laugh when she realized what was in the small glass bottle he'd brought back to bed with him.

"It's that or polish, which gets sticky with too much heat and friction." He leaned in close to whisper in her ear, the bed dipping a little with their weight. "You do want heat and friction don't you?"   
  
"Mmm, you do know how to sweet talk a girl." She pushed gently on his chest, easing him down onto his back. "It does stay very nice and thick and slippery," she dug her fingers in a little, before sliding her hand down his stomach. "If you don't care that we'll smell like dinner, I certainly don't mind."   
  
"Oh, am I supposed to counter that one by promising you always smell delicious?" It was quite remarkable how wide and innocent he could make his eyes appear, no matter what that pretty mouth of his was saying. "Or perhaps that you're good enough to eat, all you have to do is ask?"   
  
"We did that already lover." Isabela winked as she carefully poured some oil in the middle of her palm and rubbed her hands together. "Let's see what else you're good at, shall we?"   
  
The amused light in his eyes disappeared as he closed his eye with a grunt, head stretched back and hips pushing up as she stroked both hands down his cock. And up and down again, unable to resist the sight of his chest stretching as his back curved, the feel of him hard and slick between her fingers. Despite her joke, she even quite enjoyed the scent of warm skin and oil.   
  
"Maker, Isabela, you're never going to have your fun if you keep that up." His voice was thick and slow, and she gave another gentle squeeze to hear him groan again.   
  
"Who said this wasn't fun?" She slid one hand down to his balls, tilting her head to watch his jaw flex as he didn't quite cry out while she stroked with fingers and thumb. But she slowly drew her hands away nonetheless. "Your turn."   
  
"You know how much you need." He lifted himself up on his elbows, the light back in his eyes, an appreciative curl to his lips as he looked at her.   
  
She crawled forward, ignoring the trail her hands left on the blanket, letting her breast brush against his cock on the way to make him shudder, until she could just barely reach his mouth with hers, a slight flick of the tongue, a brush of lips, a whisper of breath against his face. "You just want to watch, don't you?"   
  
"Always."   
  
"Really?" She raised one eyebrow. "Does that only apply to watching me enjoy myself, or would you like to see someone else make me come apart as well?"   
  
"Hmm," she saw his cock twitch out of the corner of her eye, though he kept his face admirably still. "That would depend on the situation and the someone else, I think."   
  
"Oooh, you are just full of surprises. We'll have to have a little chat about that one later." She rocked forward again to give him one last kiss, a short press of lips, before reaching for the oil again. "Preferences as to view?"   
  
The slight curve of his lips widened into a proper grin. "There's a mirror behind you, remember? I get to see your body and your face, whichever way you go."   
  
"Mm." She grinned back. "I love that mirror."   
  
"Ah, now I know, you only put up with me for my furniture."   
  
Her laugh faded when his breath caught at the sight of oil pouring into her hand again. She kept her eyes open as she reached back and carefully eased a finger in, twisting just a little to spread the oil. The angle was awkward, but worth it to see his face, heat and anticipation reined in as held himself still, all except his eyes, getting darker and darker as he watched.   
  
She did it again, and again, past the point where she needed more, just to tease herself, and him, her body rocking back against her hand, wondering how much better he'd feel than her fingers, wondering how much darker his eyes could get, until she started to wonder how much longer she could stand it, if she'd start to beg before he moved.   
  
"Now, woman," his voice was a growl as he reached for her, and she let him grab, hands hard around her arms as he kissed her, and then she spun herself around until they were both facing the foot of the bed. And past it, to the sight of their bodies flushed in the mirror.   
  
She wanted to watch as she slowly lowered herself onto Sebastian's lap, but she couldn't keep her eyes open, too lost in sensation. She leaned her head back, reminding herself to breathe as she felt him fill her, one guiding hand, their progress slow and easy, her weight balanced between hands and legs and feet just so, his chest against her back, and he was  _everywhere_ and  _Maker_ , everything was glorious. Her whole body practically thrummed with tension as she groaned.   
  
She could feel the shudder through his chest behind her, and a wordless aching moan of his own brushed against her cheek as she settled against his hips, and she opened her eyes enough to be exceedingly pleased by the expression on his face, eyes closed as he turned his face in towards her, his nose rubbing slightly in her hair.   
  
The whole damn view was spectacular, his hand around her breast, pulling slightly at her nipple, the curve of her stomach, his fingers spread along her hip.  _Such good hands._  She could even just see his balls beneath the dark curls of damp hair between her thighs.   
  
She really needed to get a nice mirror of her own.   
  
 _Maybe on the ceiling?_    
  
His hands tightened slightly, tension visible through his knuckles, holding her still as his hips shifted up beneath her, the feel of him moving inside her startling a gasp out of her throat.   
  
Everything was so tight in this position, an ache up her back and through the muscles of her stomach, and then he shifted again and she cried out as he found just the right angle, the gentle flex of their bodies rubbing him back and forth inside her.   
  
Her breath sped up to match his rhythm, her arms stretched up, then behind his head, and she leaned back against his shoulder, giving up the view in favor of his mouth, a kiss more tongue than lips.   
  
The hand along her hip trailed softly downward, and then she couldn't even manage a kiss, her jaw loose and open with a groan as he pushed a finger up inside her. She couldn't tell if she shivered on her own, or caught it from him as his knuckle rubbed against the back of her cunt, stroking the hard length of his cock through her body, slow and gentle and just firm enough to make them both shudder.

His fingers curved, the tips pressing lightly forward, and the heel of his hand pushed up against her clit until her hips jerked, just a little, up towards his hand and down towards his hips, and she couldn't think, could barely breathe, couldn't tell what felt better, cock or hand or finger or hips or the pinch of his fingers around her aching nipple, the clench of the muscles in her stomach, her back, her  _everything_ , so tight even her voice was strangled in her throat, a ragged sigh all she could manage, her fingers digging into his back as she came.   
  
His cock was still hard inside her, his fingers still curved, his hand still tight against her, and her body jerked back and forth, uneven, ungentle, trying to come down from the orgasm even as his body urged her back up again, his hips bucking up beneath her, his breath heavy and ragged against the side of her face.   
  
She heard herself whine as he pulled his hand out, half relief, half disappointment, her skin tight and hot, her muscles overstretched, thin and taut and fragile, as if the wrong move,  _the right move_ , could break her into pieces.   
  
His other hand slid down past her navel, pushing against the heat and the tension curling low in her stomach, and she almost whined again, unable to move, pinned between hand and cock and the hard planes of his chest behind her, needing something, just a little more,  _once more_.   
  
"Got one more in you?" His whisper against her skin was like an echo of her own thoughts, the nod of her head making her hair pull where it was caught between them.

He hummed at that, apparently having as much trouble talking as she was thinking, and then there were fingers in her mouth, tasting of him and her own slick, his other hand shoving back inside her, no finesse this time, no stroking, curling fingers, just the hard push of skin as he thrust, over and over, the shifting of his hips as she felt him rise up again, higher, his cock deep inside her making everything unbearably, beautifully tight.   
  
She felt him breathe,  _now,_ against her neck, and then the edge of his teeth against her skin was enough,  _too much_  . Her eyes closed as she pushed and clenched and rolled against him, a perfect storm, all thought blown away, heat and pleasure and the vague sensation of his broken rhythm, his hips a staccato beat, lifting her up in counterpoint as he went taut beneath her before he came apart as well.   
  
"Maker, Isabela," his voice was almost as rough as his breath had been, though that might have just been the trouble she was having paying attention. "You..." His voice caught on a groan as she arched her back, stretching out the last of her shivers. His hands tightened, then loosened with a sigh, both of them still and quiet.   
  
She was sore, and messy, and she didn't really care, as they both fell back on the bed and slowly disentangled themselves.  _Though he's right, very narrow._    
  
"I hope you don't have any more endurance tests." Sebastian's voice was a little rough, a soft sound in the quiet room. "I don't think I'd survive."   
  
"I'm not sure I can stand, I think you're safe." She grunted as she pulled herself a little higher up the bed, arm knocking into his chest, leg dangling off the side, staring up at the ceiling. "Right about now is when I usually kick someone out so I can go to sleep."   
  
"My bed." Sebastian nudged her slightly with an elbow before shifting a bit closer to the wall to give her more room. "Not leaving."   
  
"Or I wander off to my own bed, right." She rolled over on her side with a groan, so they could actually both fit both their legs on the bed. "Walking sounds like a  _dreadful_  idea though."   
  
She felt his arm fall across her side, his breath blow across her hair as he laughed. "I won't throw you out."   
  
"You say that now. Wait 'til I kick you in the stomach when I try to spread out like this was a proper bed."   
  
"Kick me too hard and I'll toss a blanket on top of the rug for you and keep my bed to myself." She felt the soft touch of his nose rubbing the back of her head.   
  
She snorted in appreciation. She rather preferred pillows to floors, however, so she kept her mouth shut.   
  
Plenty of time to harass the man some other day, after all.


	9. Chapter 9

Sebastian tugged slightly on the bottom of his tunic, frowning slightly in the mirror. 

Starkhaven formal wear was so much simpler; a kilt and doublet and light dancing shoes rather than too many layers of hose and trousers and hideous boots. He'd make a right mess of a proper fling or sword dance with such heavy heels.   
  
But he wasn't in Starkhaven. And not likely to be if he didn't keep playing Kirkwall politics long enough to get some allies.   
  
Not for the first time, he wished Hawke could be induced to pay attention to the power games in Kirkwall. Being an acquaintance of the Champion would get him some nice political leverage... if the Champion ever bothered to be a presence at the Keep.   
  
He grinned in the mirror, struck with the thought of some of Hawke's other compatriots at the Keep. Varric and Aveline were used to it, of course, if only on business, but Merrill would probably be delighted by the dancing, and Fenris would scowl over the punch.   
  
 _I'll not consider Anders and his attempts to proselytize over h'ors d'oeuvres._    
  
Isabela, now... his smile softened, one hand reaching out to touch the frame of the mirror before he closed the wardrobe. She never spoke much of her life before she'd escaped out to sea, but he could imagine she had been a breath-taking hostess. Clever words and warm laughter...   
  
 _Not sure her previous life appreciated her enough for that laughter though. We've all washed up in unexpected ways against Kirkwall's chains, now haven't we?_    
  
He permitted himself one last sigh before he straightened his shoulders and headed out the door.  _Duty calls._    
  
***   
  
She crashed the party.   
  
He wasn't quite sure why that surprised him as much as it did, but he'd never expected to see Isabela gracefully stealing a drink and a snack off of a politician's table, her swaying stride carving a path through the crowd, her rich laugh rising above the sound of murmuring voices.   
  
She was still dressed in white, silk up to her neck and down to her toes, clinging to every curve. And then she turned to speak to someone, and he almost broke his glass between his finger at the long expanse of skin visible all the way from the nape of her neck,  _dark hair piled above her head_ , down to the slight curve above her arse, only an x-shape of crossed ties holding her dress in place.   
  
"Didn't even see me come in, did you?"   
  
Sebastian blinked at the familiar voice by his elbow, turning to see Fenris, not scowling at all, his face eased by the hint of a small smile curving up one side of his mouth.   
  
"I'm afraid I didn't. She makes quite the entrance. I must admit I never expected?" Sebastian gestured slightly around at the party surrounding them.   
  
Fenris almost shrugged, the slightest shift of wine in his glass moving more than he did. "She said she owed you one. And if I helped, she'd owe me one."   
  
"Owe you one what?"   
  
Fenris just raised one dark eyebrow in answer. He leaned forward, the slightest clink of crystal as he tapped Sebastian's glass with his own. "Part of her appeal, isn't it? The surprise of it all?"   
  
***   
  
She never let him speak to her. Darting close for just an instant, the warmth of her skin, a quick kiss in the shadows, her thigh gliding up between his legs in the most distracting way possible. Always slipping away again with a wink and a smile. Flirting with everyone.   
  
Making sure he noticed when she danced with Fenris, a wink over the elf's shoulder, a smile when they went to refill their drinks.   
  
He tried to ignore her, get back to his normal socializing, but she was like an itch he couldn't scratch, a butterfly constantly fluttering in the corner of his eye, and half-way through the night he realized he'd just spent half a mark talking with the Comte de Launcet and couldn't remember a single word of the conversation.   
  
He excused himself as politely as possible and escaped to one of the row of small balconies off the Great Hall, leaning back against the railing and staring up at stars made dim by torchlight, breathing in the cool night air. Pretended she hadn't teased him until he'd been half hard most of the night.

Though he was unexpectedly thankful for Kirkwall layers now, as they kept his predicament hidden.  _If a touch uncomfortable._    
  
Sebastian was rather sure she was setting him up for her long awaited revenge, but the fact that he had no idea of her end game was making the skin twitch between his shoulder blades.   
  
At this point he was just hoping that whatever her grand finale was, it wasn't too public.   
  
***   
  
The evening was finally slowing down, people slowly trickling away for the night. Isabela had continued her teasing dance, never quite there long enough to confront, and he was tired and hot and aching. His collar was too tight,  _not to mention_ _my pants_ , but the end was in sight.   
  
So of course that was when she struck.   
  
She slithered by, a gentle tug on his arm until he followed her into a quiet hallway,   _like a moth and a lantern moving through the woods_ , and didn't he just know how poorly that usually ended for the moth.

She pushed him up against the wall, warm full breasts pressed to his chest, mouth leaning in for a kiss. And what a kiss, full and deep, lips and tongue and heat, filling his mouth with the feel and the taste of her, banishing all thoughts beyond _Isabela_.

Her hands cupped his arse to pull him tight against her hips, and it was more than he could do to resist, his arms wrapping around her to hold her close, bare skin beneath his fingers as he cupped the back of her neck, slid his other hand to the small of her back. She pulled back slightly, sucking gently on his bottom lip, and then she was gone, a smooth stride back to the far side of the hallway, and he was staring at her, hands cold and empty, trying to remember how to breathe.   
  
She smiled as he blinked at her, and if he hadn't been hard from the kiss that smile would have done it, slow and dark and pleased. "I think you've learned your lesson, lover."

She stepped in close again to drop a kiss on his cheek, sliding back before he could react with more than another blink. "I shall be heading home with my escort now, and, at least for tonight, you are not invited." She blew him a kiss and turned, a quick swirl of white as she spun on her toes before disappearing back to the Great Hall.   
  
Sebastian was inordinately grateful for the empty expanse of stone walls and floors when he heard something suspiciously close to a whimper come out of his mouth.   
  
It wasn't until he'd managed to salvage his self-control, give his farewells, and escape out into the night air that he realized what she'd offered. That she'd spent the night not just tormenting him with her own flirtations, but with  _Fenris_.   
  
His best friend.

His undeniably attractive best friend, whose friends-with-benefits sort of relationship with Isabela was very similar to the one Sebastian himself enjoyed.

Whose expression had been particularly inscrutable most of the night.

But he'd never lost that slight smile, and his eyes had seemed darker than usual every time he met Sebastian's gaze.   
  
 _At least for tonight._    
  
Which left the invitation open for tomorrow.   
  
If he showed up at dawn,  _perhaps with some fruit or pastry and tea as a goodwill offering?_ , they'd probably both still be naked.

Sebastian whistled softly as he made his way back to his quarters for what remained of the night. If he'd read her wrong, and was assuming a plot when there was just a tease?  _Death by naked Fenris and Isabela?_

Completely worth it.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [[podfic] The Thrill of the Chase](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11687859) by [BabelGhoti (TheHandmadeTale)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheHandmadeTale/pseuds/BabelGhoti)




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